


Birthday Bang-a-thon

by occasional_boy_reporter



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: All the ways to sex, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Birthday, Birthday Sex, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, F/M, Intersex Exo Mod, Lightplay, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2020-05-31 06:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19420537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/occasional_boy_reporter/pseuds/occasional_boy_reporter
Summary: Cayde celebrates his birthday with sexy times and friends.





	1. Chapter 1

Cayde onlines to the digitized sound of celebratory kazoo and high-pitched cheers. As the noise dies down, he rolls over to cast a questioning look at the Ghost he can sense at his bedside.

There hovers Sundance with her eye bright, shell bobbing excitedly as she exclaims, “Rise and shine. It's the big day!”

She replays the recording, kazoos and all, and it finally dawns on Cayde. Bare, metal toes slap the ground with a solid _thunk_ as he throws off the covers.

"Hot damn, it's my birthday!"

“Yes! Today you're-”

Cayde holds up a gentle shushing finger and uses it to give Sundance a little spin. “Let's not worry about the number, ok?”

Sundance laughs and let's it go.

They spend the early morning getting shined up. Cayde pays special attention to Sundance, scrubbing her shell in the sink using the soft bristled toothbrush that’s all her own before patting her down with a fluffy towel and giving her a full wax. After all, it’s sort of like her birthday too. A celebration of new beginnings all around. Sundance churrs happily as she’s buffed and her Guardian chuckles at the occasional beeps and clicks that are a bit like the Ghost equivalent of binary. When Cayde releases her with an approving whistle, Sundance flutters around the room to admire herself in every reflective surface while Cayde finishes his own detailing.

“I got a feeling,” Cayde hums as he checks the sheen on his carefully primped horn, “that this is gonna be a hell of a birthday!”

*

Strolling into the morning Vanguard meeting early is not a thing Cayde typically does. Unless he’s gone to the trouble of making sure he and his Ghost look extra fine. Then of course it won’t hurt anything to show off a little before getting down to business. As they enter the rooms that were built for a new Speaker (but wind up a sort of default Vanguard space more often than not), Ikora is the first to notice their shiny entrance. Of course, she’s always the first to notice and her eyebrows do a little baby-sized raise. A pretty decent surprise reaction given it’s Ikora who has one of the most flawless poker faces Cayde’s ever had the pleasure of losing against.

“Good morning, Cayde, Sundance. Happy birthday.”

“Oh! Is it our birthday?” The Exo winks to his Ghost with a flash of an led. “Sweet of you to remember, Ikora.”

Nevermind that Cayde has carefully been dropping hints about today for the last four weeks. Ikora, of course, knows that he knows that she knows that he knew but she doesn’t call him on his less-than-subtle subterfuge. Probably because it’s their birthday.

“Big plans today?” Ikora asks conversationally as she scrolls through a report.

Cayde shrugs with a perfect imitation of nonchalance. “Nah, nothing planned.”

 _‘In case somebody’s planning a surprise party’,_ he thinks at Sundance.

Her excitement bubbles back like a giggle Cayde can feel all over.

“Yeah….birthdays all start to run together after you hit the one-forty-somethings,” Cayde jokes but he doesn’t miss the way Zavala is finally stirring from his own stack of daily reports to send a ‘secretive’ glance Ikora’s way.

‘ _Oh, that might be something.’_

Ikora fixes Cayde with at least seventy percent of her visible attention, which proves to be about ten percent more than Cayde can handle, because his non-existent stomach does a little flip at the first hint of a rare Ikora smile. “Well, perhaps something will happen to make it special this year. In the meantime, my birthday wishes remain.”

Cayde tries to tamp down the giddiness that springs up when a woman like Ikora Rey acknowledges your existence. He's pretty sure his face is lit up like the streets during the Dawning when he finally tears his eyes away from Ikora’s lovely face with its soft, little smile to find the third Vanguard again.

Zavala only nods (the social equivalent of signing his name to a card Ikora purchased!) before straightening his datapads. “Right, since we’re all here, let’s begin with reports of the Fallen recession in the Cosmodrome.”

Cayde does his best not to pout when they start the morning meeting twenty minutes early without so much as a mention of cake.

*

At least the workday has the decency not to drag. Amanda calls Cayde to the hanger around midday to surprise him with takeout from his favorite ramen shop and there’s even a heating pad wrapped in a little bow for Sundance so she can rest in warm peace on the desk the nights when Cayde’s tossing and turning becomes too much to snuggle with. Banshee asks Cayde to swing by in the early evening for a free inspection and cleaning on the Ace of Spades and the fact that Banshee of all people even remembered to write their birthday on his calendar is gift enough. During the day's closing meeting, Tess sends over a little tin of color-changing polish that they test on Sundance while Zavala drones on about how they’re gonna fund the partial demolition of the old Tower for safety reasons.

End of shift finally rolls around and Cayde is debating on taking the wheel of the party bus into his own hands by inviting the Warlock and Titan Vanguards out for a couple drinks but Zavala renders the decision irrelevant by clearing his throat in the already quiet room and announcing, “I have business elsewhere. Ikora, would you be so kind as to brief Cayde in my absence?”

There's a look there too! Something Cayde can't quite put his finger on. He tries to channel his inner Ikora-

_'Observant, sexy, borderline omnipotent, sexy, wait...I already did that one…’_

-but he's still channeling when the real Ikora tilts her head in acknowledgement.

“Of course, Zavala.”

“Wait.” Cayde frowns when the order finally sinks in. (Not his fault. Selective Hunter hearing at work.) “Brief me? It's quittin’ time. There an important op you two forgot to tell me about?”

“We didn't forget,” Ikora assures as she gestures for her Ghost to whisk away her datascrolls. “We were simply waiting for the right time.”

The click of the door shutting behind Zavala is followed by the pleasant trill of the lock engaging.

“Uh,” Cayde blinks after the retreating Commander.

“Would you mind sending your Ghost for a visit elsewhere?”

Cayde swallows, realizing the flare of Ikora's Light and the tilt of her chin.

‘ _Sundance…’_

_‘Oh, I'm gone, boss. Enjoy.’_

Cayde hardly processes the absence of his Ghost before Ikora fills the space with her Light. Her energy does that tingling thing a more inexperienced Guardian might think typical of arc, but it's the millions of tiny fingers of the Void plucking at Cayde's being that send him buzzing. And nobody directs the Void better than Ikora. Especially in alternative applications. Cayde tries not to pant as his toes curl and his spine straightens.

“We, uh...we using code now when we want to fool around?”

He could use his eyes (funny how those things seem to go dark anytime Ikora twists their Light together) but he can feel her smile while he stands frozen, trembling, and decides the visual stimulus of Ikora getting in the zone might be more than he can handle so soon. “If Zavala calls this a mission, I wonder what the paperwork will look like.”

“Have a seat, Cayde.”

He doesn't mean to say anything, but the way she blows right past his rambling, that smooth order, the way her void energy puts him off balance like he's standing with his toes to an invisible wall, the exclamation pops out of his mouth as he staggers and nearly falls off the edge of the chair he only sort of knew was a couple steps behind him. “Shit, Ikora!”

“Shhhh,” Ikora cautions far too cheekily to be a proper chastisement, “this is a secret op. You wouldn't want just anyone to hear.”

It's not quite a tug but there is an insistent force that guides his face to turn and he boots up his eyeballs to see what Ikora’s Light wants him to. The decorative window coverings of the (future?) Speaker's quarters offer some privacy from those who casually pass by, their minds wandering or senses devoted to personal tasks. But the dividers are by no means solid and the fact that Cayde can pick out the design on the ceiling fans as they rotate beyond the balcony outside means that anyone with a prying eye and an inkling of suspicion can see what Cayde and Ikora are up to.

Which actually doesn't look like much now that Cayde dares to see the situation. Cayde may be half melted into the armchair with his fans whirling but Ikora stands a business-appropriate distance away, hands clasped Warlock-like behind her back and, from the outside at least, it probably looks as though Ikora is giving Cayde a semi-regular scolding.

It'd take a damn gifted Guardian to read the way Ikora's Light washes over Cayde's twitching knees and sends those void fingers digging into the seams of his inner thighs with awesome accuracy.

“Oh shit!” Cayde whispers out the open cheek of his clamped mouth, “Is this for real or am I having a spectacular dream?”

The answer is a nudge of void so masterful that it rolls against that sweet spot between his dick and his hole and his hips buck out of his seat in surprise while he grips the chair arms to keep from flying away.

“Oh, it's real!” Cayde groans out loud because Sundance isn't there and an internal monologue would be wasted. “I had no idea you could do that.”

“An entertaining trick,” Ikora admits as she settles back on one heel in a way that cocks her opposite hip and makes Cayde want to wrap his hands around it, “but hardly the limits of my control.”

They've fooled around with Light often enough for Cayde to know Ikora is the best among their little group at wielding it. But they've never played like this.

“I don't even believe I need to touch you.”

It's hardly a whisper but, Traveler above, does Ikora's assertion tear through Cayde like an alarm!

She’s so right. He's way too hard for his pants and the tight spread of leather is the only thing keeping the rounded line of his dick from jutting out in the most ridiculous tent. Sensors vaguely pick up on the pre dribbling over the inside of his thigh. He almost readjusts but he meets Ikora's steady gaze the same moment he has the thought and he can see it in her eyes... Absolutely no touching.

That's fine. Cayde can do this. It's not exactly torture to sit back and feel Ikora's void roll up his torso and push him back into sturdy cushions. And he’s far from complaining about the way the Light almost seems to be kneading at his crotch.

But nothing good can last forever and the way Cayde's dick twitches warns him he's about to hit his end. He tries to relay that intel to Ikora but one look at her face says she already knows. His eyes wink offline as he focuses on the steady swarm of pleasure down south instead.

He almost startles when he senses her standing between his wide-spread knees. Ikora leans forward, not quite looming over Cayde in the chair but just enough to press against the bubble of his personal space and disturb the buzzing barrier of arc energy he can't help but shed during Light play.

“Look at me, Cayde.”

“Oh shit! Do I have to?” He whimpers and squirms against the intensifying rhythm of push and pull at his dick. If he keeps his eyes closed, he can imagine it's Ikora's hands jerking him off and not fucking cosmic forces wielded by a master Warlock which is just...so excessive it's ridiculously hot.

But Cayde's also not in the dangerous habit of making Ikora give an order twice so he looks. He's trying not to look straight at her face and finish immediately which is why his vision swims into focus on her chest. Her breasts are right there, tempting him to squeeze and mouth at them even if they're still fully covered. The second his most willful finger brushes her coat, Ikora makes a disapproving noise in the back of her throat. Gravity does a funny little thing and pulls Cayde's hand back to its former resting spot. He doesn't even look to see the shimmering void band around his wrist.

Ikora's body casts a shadow as she leans forward to place her hands just shy of Cayde's on the armrests.

“Whenever you're ready.”

Cayde didn’t think he was waiting for permission but he digs his heels into the floor and tries to fuse his shoulders into the back of the chair as if her words are his cue. Maybe he whines a little as wooden arms creak beneath his hands but who wouldn't when Ikora Rey is standing over them while they come in their pants?

She never lets him down hard and void Light continues to stroke the length of his thighs as he cycles open all his vents and pants through the aftershocks of orgasm.

When he finally gets himself together to look again, Ikora is smiling with what definitely looks like a sharp streak of pride and that's totally fair.

She places a sweet kiss on his cheek. “Happy birthday, Cayde. Consider yourself briefed for the mission ahead.”


	2. Chapter 2

Cayde blinks slowly to clear the dead pixels that linger after a spectacularly unexpected orgasm. How long has he been out of it? It feels like weeks but Ikora still stands where he remembers her- proud and sexy and maybe a little amused when every last one of Cayde's fans kick on in a delayed state of emergency.

"You'd best find a change of clothes," Ikora murmurs with a pointed glance toward Cayde's splayed legs.

Cayde blinks dully at his crotch, the ever-so-slightly darker patch, the shimmer of something wet trying to escape the space between zipper teeth.

"Oh shit," Cayde breathes. "That did happen! Sometimes I really do think you're a figment of my imagination, Ikora."

"Is that so?" Ikora's smile is so warm it makes Cayde wish he had one more internal fan. "Then perhaps we don't give your brain nearly the credit it deserves."

The Exo lets her get away with the gentle tease as he reaches out for Sundance. Who he only belatedly recalls was sent away before fun time began and has since migrated too far for Cayde to reach while he's still piecing himself together.

"Uh, yeah, clothes," Cayde grimaces as he shifts against the tacky stain of his fly. There's also a distinct slickness tickling the lips of his cunt that he hadn't really noticed pooling amid his Void handjob, "I don't suppose you could transmat-"

Ikora hums regretfully as she collects her datapads with all the efficiency of a woman who obviously has places to be. "I'm afraid my Ghost is running another errand."

Cayde nods reluctantly.

_'Maybe could have considered the logistics a little better before you made me cream my pants,'_ Cayde grouses internally but he isn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"No problem I'll just... pop over to the hanger for my emergency stash."

Which is much closer than his quarters but still much farther than any man ought to sneak around while covered in his own come. 

"An excellent plan," Ikora concurs with bolstering certainty.

Cayde swipes a data pad from the top of her stack. 

"Just...gonna borrow this for a bit," he announces with a little wave of the device before he holds it over his fly to hide the stain as well as the damn residual chub that sometimes comes with Light play.

"Thanks for the…" Cayde falters on what to call it exactly (his gift, the Voidjob?) and simply gestures to his crotch, certain that Ikora will parse his meaning. She graces him with one last, dazzling smile as he exits.

*

Cayde makes it past a young Titan and two Tower guards with no more trouble than a slight change in his gait and a deliberate flip of his cape to draw away suspicion from other regions. But after he’s cleared the stairs and reached open air of the Tower’s most exposed decks, an unexpected face catches his eye. Arcite stands at the juncture of railed walkways, frame glinting in the evening sun like a beacon. It’s not that Arcite isn’t a common sight in the Tower. Rather, the niggling sensation building in Cayde’s gut stems from the fact that Arcite is rarely seen away from his post or more than a dozen feet from Shaxx. Gut niggling triples when Arcite _crooks a damn finger_ in Cayde’s direction.

The Exo casts a quick glance around, already knowing the strange gesture was intended for him but still having trouble accepting it and finally points at himself and angles his brow to ask ‘me?’ across the space. Arcite manages to look annoyed without any facial features as he crooks his finger again.

_‘Well, shit,’_ Cayde projects just in case Sundance might hear him and come to his aid. No immediate luck but Cayde does register the absence of his post-Ikora stiffy so at least he doesn’t have to worry about flashing that as he makes his way to Arcite.

“What’s up, my man?”

Arcite is conversational as ever with a simple “This way, please” and an open hand indicating the walkway that continues around into a tunnel of cement.

Cayde shrugs, takes the lead, and is only mildly surprised, ten steps later, to find Shaxx taking up a considerable amount of the enclosed space.

The casual reminder of the Crucible master’s size is enough for Cayde's fluids to start leaking again, making a bigger mess of his slick, untouched cunt but Cayde tries to shunt aside ‘sex mode’ for half a second to remind himself what he was doing. “Sorry, Shaxx. No time to chat. On my way to the hanger.”

There’s not a lot of room to slip around the Titan to begin with and a single side step shows Cayde that was never going to happen.

“Ikora tells me we're celebrating your resurrection.” Oversized hands take Cayde by the jaw and the hip.

_‘Oh hell! It’s like that?’_ Is what flashes through Cayde’s head but he goes mute long enough to formulate and deliver something a little more suave, “Did you get me a present?”

“Naturally.” One of those bear paws creeps around to squeeze at Cayde’s ass. “Would you like it here?”

Hard to say off the cuff if ‘here’ means ‘up the ass’ and the gift is ‘a massive Titan cock’ or if ‘here’ means ‘right here in this semi-public hall’ and the gift is still ‘a massive Titan cock’. Either way, Cayde is on wet-pussy-autopilot and saying yes before the cushion of his ass even has time to spring back from its groping. Any amount of paperwork after this 'mission' is absolutely worth it.

Shaxx spins Cayde easy as if he were a toy top, pins him to the wall with a forearm to either side of Cayde’s face, and grinds against him. Hips against ass drags the fabric clutching along his soaked cunt and Cayde pants something very un-Vanguard-like against the wall. Cayde looks to where he left Arcite and finds the barest sliver of the frame’s back and assumes there’s a Redjack on the other side of the path as well. No need to ruin what is sure to be a wonderful fuck with a lecture from Zavala later about discretion.

Huge hands are on him. Squeezing his chest, shoving his pants down his thighs. Cayde’s dropped Ikora’s handheld somewhere and only vaguely hopes they don’t step on it. Any other person, any other time, Cayde would complain about the sloppy treatment but he can feel the hot line rubbing against his bare ass and knows he can't wait either.

With a couple audible clicks, Shaxx takes off his helmet with one hand and presses Cayde’s forehead against the wall with the other so he can't look. Cayde's pretty sure the helmet thing was a game to see how long Shaxx could go without taking it off and it became a point of pride that carried over even to their years of fooling around. Not that Cayde hasn't managed to sneak a peek here and there but he's not about to point it out and risk missing out on Shaxx’s teeth sinking into the flexible side of his neck and he’s much more interested in the massive cock that has stopped rutting against his ass and started sliding between his wide spread legs. Shaxx drags it along his cunt while holding Cayde in place with teeth and palms and Cayde ruts back desperately, twisting his hips and rising on his toes to get it inside but hardly succeeding beyond poking and distorting his lips on the fat head because he's too wet and too wound up to figure things like simple trajectories.

Shaxx notes the Exo’s whining distress and reaches down to offer some thick-fingered relief. Shaxx gives some of the best fingerings of Cayde's life, second only to Ikora. A mandatory skill when you’re big enough to wreck someone with the first half of your dick, Cayde supposes. He comes, only two-fingers full (blame it on Ikora laying the ground work) and unleashes a flood he can hear drip around Shaxx’s fingers and onto the floor.

His fans are still whirring, Cayde panting as he tries to help them catch up, and horn scraping the wall in an orgasmic daze when Shaxx extracts his filthy hand and hauls Cayde up by his thighs. The Exo scrabbles at the smooth wall in front of him for some kind of grip, too surprised to object with any intelligence. Meanwhile, Shaxx does what he does best and presses his advantage. He lines them up and enters Cayde from behind in a thrust so hard and perfect, Cayde’s sure he’s gonna scratch gouges in the wall. Shaxx charges ahead, fucking hard and fast and Cayde tries to watch with his head hanging between his bracing arms as his dick bounces and lube flies from his cunt as the Titan slams deeper. He’s getting fucked so hard, his spine bends and his toes trail above the floor with each thrust. There's also a lot of focus on not screaming but he makes strangled noises that any half-aware person could probably interpret as 'Hunter Vanguard being fucked silly’. 

Cayde groans when Shaxx’s teeth land on the Exo’s neck again and the Titan growls- the usual sign that beautifully stupid huge dick has made it all the way in. A few seconds later, the first internal warnings are flashing across Cayde’s brainscape. Shaxx is always pushing Cayde's specs in a way they both know is too crazy for flesh and blood partners- a bullet Cayde would happily take for their shared partners anytime Shaxx is particularly enthusiastic. 

There's no Light as they fuck and they've never needed it before. The sensation of being stuffed so full and handled so easily with systems on high replaces the warm, half fuzzy feel of Light play each time. Cayde comes again with the speed and force of a notorious Titan shoulder charge. Shaxx uses the meat of his arm to try and stifle the following scream in a not-quite-chokehold and continues thrusting until he empties with a final snap and grind of his hips. 

They pause for breath, Shaxx's arm across Cayde's mouth and a single hand on his lower abdomen to help support Cayde on more than just Shaxx's cock and Cayde's tippytoes. Shaxx eases them down until Cayde’s heels find the floor and slides out. Every retreating inch drags along over-stimulated walls making Cayde quiver and pant while he leans heavily, both hands braced against the wall, and watches the come and lube race down his legs. He's gonna have to throw himself in one of the City's new reflecting ponds to disguise the mess now!

Shaxx is back suddenly, hands scooping the mess at Cayde’s thighs and disappearing again. Before Cayde can ask, his cheeks are being spread and something is slowly being inserted into his ass. It's big but not Shaxx big. The realization would send his eyes rolling into the back of his head, if they were capable of that.

Instead, Cayde exhales a marveled whisper. “You got me a toy too?”

“Do you like it?” Shaxx hums, voice deep and close enough to make the Hunter shiver.

Cayde can hardly process the thought of his gift wrapped in his own come and stretching his ass while his cunt squeezes and flutters. The movement jiggles the plug and it begins to slide out but Shaxx tuts and pushes it back in until a flared base seals it inside. “It's rude to refuse a gift.”

Cayde half nods, playing along, as he mumbles some destroyed version of a ‘thank you’. There’s the familiar sound of Shaxx donning his helmet again and Cayde takes that as permission to turn around. The Titan’s dick is already locked away behind armor. It’s always such a shame to see the thing go but Cayde isn’t certain he could stand another round even if it were offered. Shaxx pulls Cayde's pants up and buckles them, righting everything the best it can be righted before gently caressing the Exo’s ass and dipping between to be sure the plug has remained. “Is this ok?”

_‘Ah, such care.’_ Cayde nods and savors the dual throbbing sensation clenching on the plug causes in both holes. “You’ve been generous this year.”

Though he can’t see it, Cayde can hear the fond twist of Shaxx’s lips. “Happy Resurrection Day. Give Zavala my regards.”

Cayde offers an affirmative, yet shaky, thumbs up without giving the order any thought. Shaxx pats the base of the toy one last time in parting and Cayde coughs up an awkward cloud of pent up steam.

"Before you go, Big Guy, Any chance I can get some help with an illegal Tower transmat?"


	3. Chapter 3

"You're a mess, boss."

Leather chaps sail through the air in response and Sundance avoids them with a hasty twist of her shell.

"Oh! Gross!"

"What kind of a wingman leaves their buddy without a quick escape?" Cayde demands as he peels out of what's left of his wardrobe and steps into the running shower. "I had to get a lift from Shaxx."

"Was it another double sparrow ride?"

"What?"

"Nothing," Sundance sing-songs outside the glass door.

Cayde huffs as he scrubs at his groin and the combined evidence of Ikora and Shaxx's surprise 'gifts'. Sticky smears have traveled as far as the back of his knees.

He'd be lying to say just thinking about it doesn't make his mechanical heart jump. The memory of Ikora looming over him and stupid, big Shaxx with his stupid, huge… The Exo gets distracted coaxing a mix of fluids out of his cunt and a good portion of the fingering that follows is not strictly for the sake of hygiene. An over-achieving thumb drifts back to brush against the foreign item plugging his ass but he decides he doesn’t need to remove that quite yet. The night is still young. He cleans around it but accidentally grinds it further into the channel when his Ghost startles him by continuing their conversation.

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Sundance sighs beyond the shower, ignoring the choked noise that springs from within.

Sundance flies under the nearest hanging towel, hoists it with her shell and drops it into Cayde's waiting hands just as the Exo hauls himself out. She then flies to the hairdryer to remind her Guardian to blow out all his crevices and seams so he doesn’t drip all over their rooms. “I had a nice visit with Ophiuchus. Since you didn’t ask.”

“I would have!” Cayde objects over the roar of the hairdryer angled under his jaw.

“He mentioned Ikora had been antsy this morning. Which I took to mean you were going to have a pleasant day. I was obviously right.”

“For someone who claims not to want a part of my sex life, you sure know an awful lot about it.”

“People aren't very subtle. And you,” Sundance teases, “tend to think very loudly.” 

Before Cayde can defend himself, Sundance perks, materializes a set of clothes onto the edge of the sink and zips out of the room.

The Exo catches the haphazardly transmatted material before it can slide off the metal rim and shouts annoyance as he fumbles to turn off the hairdryer and return it to it’s dock- job mostly done. Slipping into soft lounge pants is a twitching, huffing afair given the shifting around a certain gift still lodged in his backside, but Cayde manages with only the slightest boner and is tugging on his shirt as he enters the main living space in hot pursuit of his spastic Ghost.

What he doesn’t expect is to find Sundance happily chatting away with the Vanguard Commander on the couch.

“Did you…” Cayde points to the door of his apartment where he’s sure there was no knock. But the alternative seems less conceivable.

“I transmatted,” Zavala says, cool as you please, as he stands. There’s not a single plate of armor on him. Just the lightly padded suit of black and red. A rare sight that makes the Exo's brain skip even as his eyes slide smoothly over the pared down Titan.

“You, uh…” Cayde struggles, first, to grab the shirt hem bunched at his ribs. Then he tugs at the overly stretched collar looking for some semblance of order. “That’s not allowed.”

Zavala tilts his head in acknowledgement of the simple fact. 

“Yes, but I was in a hurry.” 

Said as if that excuses him from breaking the rule. 

Of course it absolutely does if Cayde is to be the judge and jury! Particularly when the Titan strides toward him with laser focus. 

“Though it seems I am still too late.” Zavala thumbs at Cayde’s wrist and smears a drop of water that had been clinging between parts. “And after all that hard work Shaxx and Ikora did. I’ll have to make you dirty again.”

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" Sundance bobs along as she parrots exactly what her Guardian is thinking.

"You-" Cayde chokes on his own embarrassment and lunges past Zavala. He barely gets fingertips on Sundance's twisting fins.

"Told you you think real loud," the Ghost cackles as she floats away.

Zavala's chuckle distracts Cayde, slows his retaliation. One bare foot planted on the couch with the intent to chase, he stops completely when the Commander orders it.

"Let her go."

Cayde is hot- between his Ghost making him look like a horny dullard in front of the one partner he's always trying to impress and Zavala's 'man in charge' voice reducing Cayde to an actual horny dullard.

"Is she really where you want to focus your attention?"

Zavala coaxes Cayde back off the couch with warm hands on the Exo's waist and Cayde feels a couple more IQ points slip away.

"No," Cayde responds dutifully, if a bit petulantly.

Zavala kisses him to wipe away the pout. 

Almost shorter for once, by merit of barefoot vs boots, Cayde finds his head tipping back under onslaught of lips and tongue and he quickly forgets anything and everything else.

As the Awoken's tongue licks along its final retreat, Cayde grabs a fistful of battle suit to make sure they don't drift too far apart.

"I almost thought you were gonna forget me today," Cayde mumbles, revealing a little more doubt than he might any other evening.

"On your birthday?" Zavala's brows rise, genuinely scandalized. "I could never."

Boy, does Cayde hate the particularly effortless sway the Commander holds over him. "But you were so cold this morning! In the war room..."

Zavala kisses Cayde's knuckles, soft and somehow still electric with promise, in typical Zavala form. "That was the war room. If I'd been ahead of myself, thinking about what we are about to do, I couldn't have made it through the day."

"What...what, uh, are we about to do?" Cayde asks, overloading on a plethora of possibilities as the Titan skims his hands along Cayde's shirt, finding all the wet dots the Exo missed.

"That depends," Zavala hedges with a, quite frankly, UNFAIR twist of his lips.

"O...on?"

"On how well Ikora and Shaxx followed my brief."

"You…" Cayde begins but stutters to a stop when warm hands toy with and then slip past the hem of his pants, "No. No, of course you did."

“Tell me. Have you come here already?” Zavala curls five hot little fingers around Cayde’s hip and the rest around his cock and strokes.

Cayde staggers. He isn't oversensitized in the same way an all night session might leave him but he's spent so much of the last few hours with systems primed for intimacy that he tumbles into sensation as suddenly and wholly as if it were a masterfully disguised pitfall. He pants at Zavala's neck- how he wound up there a confusing yet inconsequential blur- and forces his eyes open before he can get lost in the familiar, teasing tempo. One hand latches around the back of Zavala's neck for stability's sake and then Cayde hums and pulls back just enough watch the slow hand job in all its carefully doled pleasure. Somewhere in there, he remembers to answer the question. 

“Yeah," Cayde confirms through a staticy pop. "Courtesy of Ikora.”

Zavala nods, like he's checking off a mental list, before his hand journeys lower to cup the swell between Cayde's legs and give the Exo something to grind against.

“And here?”

Cayde rumbles and nods in continued confirmation but jolts when a finger slips just so, parting folds and dragging through lubricant, as he rubs against Zavala's palm a little too eagerly. “Sh-Shaxx.”

The smirk is always subtle- more a flash of eyes than the movement of lips, really- when Zavala’s plans have gone accordingly. But, as they withdraw from Cayde's hot cunt and drift farther, blue fingers hesitate in their intimate exploration. “Hmm. And what is this?”

Blunt fingers trace the seal of the plug in Cayde's secondary hole and he struggles around the heat building in his brain. “Tha- THAT is uh, also Shaxx.”

The new spark in Zavala's eyes is something brighter than satisfaction and even trickier to evoke in the level-headed Commander. He husks- oh shit! HUSKS!- low and rough in a way that almost cripples Cayde with want. “How considerate to prepare you for me.”

Cayde's groan comes all the way from his toes, tugs at his mod with needy claws as it passes, and pours out in a long agreement that rattles his voicebox.

Zavala guides him backward and Cayde almost sobs because the sensual dance of sliding hands and and shuffling feet they fall into feels too gentle for the havoc his body is going through. He tries to reach for the couch he knows is right there.

"No," the Awoken corrects their course with a squeeze of Exo ass. "We'll need the bed."

Cayde agrees dumbly, completely trusts Zavala to pull him along because, like Ikora and Shaxx, Cayde knows all his lovers will take excellent care of him. His mod sends red hot signals to his brain and systems stress makes him shiver the whole way to his room.

They hit the bed hard. Or rather Cayde hits it hard and drags Zavala down with him. The Awoken's satisfaction is sickeningly smug when their lips meet again. But because Zavala's such a good guy and SUCH a good kisser, Cayde might spin 'smug' back around to 'completely warranted confidence'. But the more that tongue licks and grinds and _fucks_ into Cayde's oral cavity, the shorter the Exo's vocabulary becomes so he circles back around to 'smug' before-

_Hot hot hot!_

He thinks he started it but Cayde is making very little progress in the undressing department, only getting so far as dragging the back of Zavala's shirt up to blue shoulder blades and doing even worse trying to drag the Titan's pants down using just metal toes. Cayde is so close to blowing another load just being pinned and kissed that he's not about to fuck that up to fuss over clothes.

Always playing the long game, Zavala does break away. He pins Cayde with one hand on his shoulder when the Exo immediately tries to follow. And, holy smokes is Zavala hot with his mouth all pink and open and wet! Cayde fights the urge to nut on sight and is rewarded by the reveal of beautiful glowing abs and squeezable pecs... after Zavala tugs his shirt back down and unzips it like design intended. Cayde does a hard reassessment and decides now is the time to scramble out of anything he doesn’t want to get in the way of fucking. Which means absolutely everything must go.

Zavala’s hands make it to Cayde’s pants while the Exo is still worming out of his shirt. Somewhere between navigating sleeves and the collar caught on his horn, the pants disappear entirely and Cayde makes the least manliest whining noise when his cock springs free and slaps heavily against the harder plating of his hips. At least somebody is finally naked!

When he emerges from his cotton cocoon, Cayde is delighted to find Zavala right there with him and it distantly occurs to Cayde the Commander must have utilized a little Ghost assistance because they’ve never been this naked this fast! 

Exo eyes go immediately to Awoken crotch and Cayde is further thrilled to see the heavy bob of a blue dick ready to go. Cayde reaches forward to catch any part of glowing skin he can but squeals when strong hands grip his calves and tug, upsetting Cayde’s plan and his balance. Cayde’s fingers dig into the sheets on instinct and bring wadded bunches with him as Zavala bodily drags the Exo down the bed. Zavala wastes no time and hoists mechanical legs over his shoulders the second they’re close enough and rubs his cheek along Cayde's inner thigh in the only thing close to warning before opening that pretty mouth and dragging his tongue in a hard line along Cayde’s slit.

Cayde shouts and squirms, immediately on board and bucking messily onto that tongue as his ass and lower back are tugged higher and higher above the bed so Zavala can eat him out while on his knees.

“Yes!”

It’s the only coherent word to make it out of the Exo’s mouth before speech dissolves into broken syllables and static. 

Zavala tucks in, the wet and ragged noises he makes almost as bad as Cayde’s, and each prod of a tongue or hard suck calls for priority release of lubricant from Cayde’s systems. Metal heels dig into the Awoken’s back between wild flails but he never complains or stops. If anything, Zavala allows the pressure to guide him, forcing his tongue so deep that Cayde’s mod cups the Commander’s face- cheeks, nose, and chin all disappearing beyond the swell of wet silicone as he tongue fucks the Exo. 

Even a fistfull of sheets half stuffed down his throat does little to quiet Cayde’s enthusiasm. He abandons the entire idea of ‘consideration for one’s neighbors’ rather quickly. Sundance tuts in his head, having retreated fully into the safety of Ghost subspace somewhere between living and bedroom. Cayde manages a weak reminder that it’s his birthday before Zavala groans into the mod he’s feasting on and Cayde’s higher brain functions wipe themselves out in self preservation before they can fry on how hot that is.

Lower functions abandon him with the next hot breath that puffs along his cunt. The release of lube is so massive and so sudden, Cayde swears he can feel it pumping through the lines in his guts even before it washes against Zavala’s lips. The Exo’s voicebox clicks in emergency shutdown before a scream can threaten the part’s integrity. Cayde trembles and some overflow of come reroutes from his cunt and dribbles from his cock twitching in the air. Cayde’s voice comes back in a low whine as the drops sail past his curled abdomen and _plonk_ softly against his chest. Zavala surfaces, cheeks flushed and shiny with both lube and the excited swirl of Awoken aura and sneaks a single breath before he swallows Cayde’s cock next- cleaning it with a gentle suckle.

The first update Cayde processes is a helpful reminder that his lube tanks have lost quite a bit of pressure throughout the day. He laughs, low and strained in a way that almost makes it a groan and wiggles his hips to get his partner’s attention, “Ya know, I've never been fucked nearly dry with a reserve tank.”

Zavala takes his time sliding his lips off the Exo’s dick, which is already deflating in response to shifting resources. His eyes glow, piercing with the chemical boost of sex, and Zavala licks his lips. “Then this is a momentous occasion.”

Cayde thinks he’s about to be laid out for a well-deserved cuddle when his ass dips back toward the bed. But Zavala doesn’t let him down, only readjusts to pin one of Cayde’s thighs higher on the Awoken’s shoulder and folds the other leg so that it rests against the Exo’s torso and leaves Cayde’s lower region somehow even more vulnerable than when a face was buried in it.

“How close are you?” Zavala whispers with the same sincerity he might ask for Cayde’s darkest secrets.

Cayde’s mouth hangs, jaw only limited by the slope of his chest pressing his chin as he hovers, curved above the bed. “T-to?”

“To being fucked completely dry.”

Cayde’s head bounces when he lets it fall back to the bed and he prays to the Traveler he doesn’t sound too much like some horny New Light when he asks in a wavering voice for Zavala to say it again.

Zavala obligees as he drags his hand along the underside of Cayde’s exposed spine. “How close are you to being fucked bone dry?”

The squeeze of his ass has Cayde gasping and pawing at the bed just as much as watching crude words formed by swollen lips.

“So close!” Cayde vents an aborted puff of air before his systems can even attempt to cool with it.

Zavala hums like he’s looking over patrol deployment but his fingers are gently easing the edges of the toy flush in Cayde’s ass. Cayde squirms and hooks his floating knee over his nearest arm, pulls the limbs away to give Zavala full clearance.The kiss to the padded inside of the Hunter’s thigh is followed by a sharp nip of teeth that does more for Cayde visually than it does in tactile sensation...but boy does the visual do wonders! His resource center finds a bit more slick to spare by rerouting some from the Exo’s throat.

Cayde jolts when the toy moves. Just the tiniest bit of a tug against parts that are lined with far more sensors. Zavala is being kind, easing out gentle millimeters at a time before pressing the plug back in. He works the thing out slowly when Cayde’s hole can’t help but clench after so long holding the thing and lower regions still pulse with the echoes of the last orgasm.

Of course, Cayde pants and puffs his way through the whole thing. Shaxx is the gut-flipping moaner and Ikora the sinful sigher and they’re both so overwhelmingly hot when they’re getting pounded but Zavala never seems to mind the way Cayde stutters through sex. Cayde hopes it’s hot, because it’s nearly all he can do as his body fights Zavala’s claim on the plug.

Only slightly distracting from the view of Zavala’s intense focus and the dance of the toy in his fingers, Cayde notices his own cock beginning to swell again.

_‘Get the hell out of here, you crazy sunova-’_

His eyes cross when the toy reaches its widest point and the rest slides out with a whisper of lube.

“Oh,” Cayde finally mutters when his eyes uncross and Zavala allows him a moment to see his hidden surprise. It looks much thicker than it had felt, longer too, with several inches of taper after a hefty lower circumference. It’s...shiny...swirled...multi-colored...almost like a snapshot of a Mayhem Crucible match. “Pretty.”

Zavala slams the plug back in until his knuckles dig into Cayde’s ass. The Exo's entire mod lights up in his brain to tell him SOMETHING MAJOR IS GOING ON HERE!

"Fuck!"

It’s breakneck from there. Cayde shouts and wiggles and his leg twitches wildly over the brace of his arm but he lets Zavala fuck him as fast and hard as he pleases.

A tricky bit of shuffling and hiking after Cayde has nearly writhed out of the Commander’s grip, brings Cayde back up and, with careful angling, Zavala manages to get his mouth back over Cayde’s mod while only sacrificing some of the speed of the toy drilling the Hunter's ass. Vowels become Cayde’s only form of speech and the Exo flies apart with his hole spread on the plug and Zavala's tongue crammed inside just next door.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Cayde chants that word he so loves to hear from Zavala as the man actively sucks what little lube manages to well around his tongue.

When it's good, it's good. And when it's Zavala, it's too good! Cayde covers his eyes with his free arm and his chest heaves as he sucks down air. Some of it, he notices, pumps straight to his cock and he struggles to tell that particular part there’s NO NEED for any further artificial inflation in the absence of sufficient lube and circulatory fluid which are busy carrying the message of OH HELL YES throughout the Exo’s frame and brain in rapid cycle. No effort is made to remove the toy so Cayde twitches around it as he tries to decide if he's going to wind down or back up again! The agony of choice is brief.

A growl sticks in the back of Cayde’s throat and Zavala has to ask him to repeat when it smothers a pop of words.

“Wanna suck you off!” Cayde finally snarls, already folding himself in half to rise and try to smash his lips against Zavala’s. With a partner at his full disposal, Cayde is ready to fully celebrate.

The Titan Vanguard is nothing but accommodating as he snares the Hunter by the back of the neck and shrugs aside metal legs in a near frenzy to join their mouths. Zavala’s lips and tongue work Cayde’s face with the same vigor for a second or two before he squeezes Cayde’s neck. His grip is stern but his smile is all sweet as he mutters against the hard slope of Exo lips, “It’s your party.”

It’s a scramble to flip himself, Cayde almost undoing any of Zavala’s assistance to position him, in the Exo’s haste. Cayde has hardly even processed the taste of himself before he chases it away with the heady flavor of Zavala’s dick sliding over the floor of his mouth. Cayde’s mouth is so dry, the last of his lube gravity bound to his mod, but Zavala is leaking enough to save them both. Cayde eases off before they lose any of that precious slick down his throat and then pulls Zavala by the hips until he gets the message. The Awoken cradles Cayde’s head in his hands with infinite care and then rocks on his knees to fuck Cayde's face.

“Look at you,” Zavala’s amusement is warm but carefully measured not to sound too approving. “You're getting greedy in your old age.”

Cayde can only gargle around the dick teasing the back of his throat but the breathless way Zavala accuses him goes straight to his mod. The Exo drags himself against the twisted sheets below, humping his bed only half conscious of doing so, but it doesn’t take any of the edge off. He forces the callipers in his throat to trigger and milk Zavala slowly hoping for more of that hard edge that Zavala is always so reluctant to brandish against Cayde. The Exo’s eyes flick up, pleading.

The recognition is there in sharp, Awoken eyes and shiny lips tweak knowingly before settling into a faux grim line. “But you've always been greedy for cock haven't you?” 

Cayde quakes and keens, drags Zavala closer by handfuls of tight ass. If he had a gag reflex, he’d be choking as he nods.

“Did you enjoy Shaxx taking you?” Zavala asks, breathless as he fights to find the words and roll his hips into the Exo’s face with the same roughness. “Should I call him in? Or maybe Ikora with that piece she loves so much. You think even the three of us could satisfy you?”

Cayde imagines himself split wide again with Shaxx’s thighs holding his legs apart by their sheer size and Ikora’s long strap-on resting heavy against his cheek but forbidden to touch without permission and he nearly flinches off Zavala's cock. Voice little more than frantic shards, he begs. “Fuck me, Zavala! Oh Light, fuck me!”

Zavala’s cock is in him before Cayde’s back even hits the bed. Arc dances along the nape of Cayde’s neck where Zavala holds him tight with one sweaty, conductive hand. A desperate curse explodes somewhere between them and Cayde doesn’t think it was him but can’t be too sure. The slap of Zavala’s hips and Cayde’s sopping cunt fill the room and play in time to Cayde’s littiny of strangled encouragement. Cayde digs into the meat of Zavala’s ass and holds on for dear life as the man fucks him into the sweet oblivion of one last devastating orgasm. It strikes like lightning. Cayde's cock jerks but nothing comes out. His pussy seizes, legs lock and he forms a tight bridge, heels tearing the sheets as he tries to both brace and spread his legs for the man between them.

Zavala’s breaths come quick and sharp and he manages to jerk one arm from Cayde’s crushing embrace and wrench the plug out of the Exo’s second fluttering hole.

Cayde is groaning which turns to moaning, which turns to begging and babbling as Zavala realigns and plunges into the tighter channel of Cayde’s ass. There’s no corner left of synthetic brain to light up but Cayde shudders and puffs anyway until Zavala’s voice cracks and Cayde’s filled up with liquid heat.

There’s an insistent ringing in Cayde’s head that might be some sort of internal error message but he bats it away as he collapses back onto the bed and Zavala lands bonelessly atop him. He’s too raw around the edges to find his voice but Cayde’s Light springs up, effervescent, in place of a laugh and he hopes the Titan can feel it as they melt into each other.

“Was...it too much?” Zavala croaks a minute later, fingers twitching where they rest limp along Cayde’s collar.

Cayde’s jaw hangs crookedly at that. He knows Zavala and it's not the mind blowing sex the man is unsure of. “You mean the dirty talk?”

The Awoken’s face drags against Cayde’s chest in an exhausted nod.

Resisting a snicker, the Exo collects some of the sweat along Zavala’s skull with a gentle caress. “If anything, I think Ikora could teach you how to be a little meaner. But thanks for trying. It’s pretty cute how hard it is for you to hurt my feelings.”

The responding snort tickles before Zavala rolls off to give himself a little more air. There's a shared grimace as they disentangle. The Hunter Vanguard bids a mental farewell to his noble sheets as he catalogues the slow shift of bodily fluids.

“Happy birthday, Cayde.”

The Hunter startles, part way to shutdown, but then drifts Zavala's direction to lay a gentle kiss on the man's shoulder.

“What,” Cayde asks with a sloppy, sated grin, “there’s really no cake?”

The Titan huffs then nuzzles into the Exo's neck. "Greedy, indeed."

A knock at the door interrupts Cayde's loopy titter.

Zavala’s own laugh flares soft and bright along Cayde’s neck and the tingling affection continues all the way through Cayde’s exhausted frame.

“ _That_ ,” the Commander whispers conspiratorially, “would be Ikora and Shaxx...with your cake.”

Distantly, Cayde hears the sound of Sundance’s digitized, celebratory kazoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They all cuddle and eat cake in their pjs and it's adorable. The end.


End file.
